Trust Issues and a Love Story
by mybrotherharry
Summary: "Peter, in his anger and feelings of betrayal, didn't see the flash of hurt in Neal's eyes at the accusation. The eyes that welled-up with unshed tears even as Peter put him through a long night in an underground warehouse with Jones and a polygraph machine." Peter/Neal, Angst, Consequences to Peter's doubts in the Season 2 Finale.


**Author's Note: The following is a White Collar fanfic which begins at the end of Season 2. It disregards Season 3, it disregards that Mozzie sneaks the treasure off and Neal gets involved. It picks up from where we left off in Season 2. **

**WARNINGS: This story involves male/male pairings. If that bothers you, please don't read further. Also, gay sex. Angst.  
**

At first, Peter is too angry to think clearly. Years of being a cop, hard psychological training at Quantico and hundreds of sleepless nights studying, learning and chasing this man have practically engraved the message into Peter's brain - _'Don't trust Neal Caffrey. He can do anything even when he seems to be right under your nose.'_  
So, watching that tiny bit of canvas come flying from the burning building sets forth a tornado of emotions. Something in him snapped, it was as though he had been just waiting for the moment for Neal to mess up. For Neal to do something like this. To betray him and every ounce of trust Peter had ever placed in their relationship.

Elizabeth, had she been there, would have smacked him upside the head.

For Peter, in his anger and feelings of betrayal, didn't see the flash of hurt in Neal's eyes at the accusation. The eyes that welled-up with unshed tears even as Peter put him through a long night in an underground warehouse with Jones and a polygraph machine. The humiliation of it is something Neal is used to. He knows that he shall always be a criminal. That no semblance of normalcy, for however long, will be enough to ensure a freedom from suspicion.

So, the next morning, Neal plasters on a fake smile, thanks Diana for a cup of coffee she hands him on his way out and leaves the FBI building without glancing at Peter. He has never been claustrophobic in his life but he has difficulty breathing now.

He tells himself initially that it is because of the art. He feels terrible that Peter would think him capable of blowing up several dozen masterpieces in order to avenge a woman he once loved. But then, Neal's always been smart. He realises quickly that the prime reason for his anger is that Peter still has difficulty trusting him. The same Peter who said he loves him, who said he is in love with him, who said he wants to make love to him but won't. Neal knows why. Peter may say Neal is precious, but precious isn't worth losing Elizabeth Burke over.

Neal remembers that conversation. One evening, Peter sipping beer and Neal drinking wine in June's penthouse suite, both of them brainstorming. Neal's just come up with some kind of insanely risky plan that is at once, both parts crazy and brilliant. Peter watches as Neal's pupils dilate, his mouth a thin line as he contemplates the case file.

'I love you,' says Peter. It comes out of nowhere, and though Neal has suspected for a while, he thought it too good to be true. He decides then and there to go for funny and jovial.

'Gee, Peter, thanks. I only hope you remember that when you hand me paperwork Mount Everest tomorrow, not just when I brainstorm you out of your problems,' he chuckles.

'No, seriously, you are smart. You know how much I love smart. Watching you outsmart people turns me on,' blushes Peter, not able to believe what he just said.

Neal refuses to come out of denial land. He knows how painful it will be when real life catches up with them and on the other side of that life, Neal is a convicted criminal and Peter has a wife to go home to.

'Okay, how much of that beer did you drink?'

'Enough to not care about what I am saying,' says Peter, refusing to take his eyes away from Neal's face. 'I love you, I am in love with you, I wanna make love to you and take you again and again till you scream my name, coz you're precious, my darling,' Peter drawls now, Neal is sure the agent is drunk, tired and bored from the long list of cases they had worked on the past week.

'Okay, bed for you now,' Neal ducks his hands under Peter's armpits and drags him to the bed. He tries to remove Peter's shoes when the bigger man pulls Neal on top of him and they collapse on the bed. Neal fights to get away, even as every nerve ending in his body is screaming for him to just rub-up against Peter _like that - oh, like that-_

'Peter! Let go of me, you're drunk! Buddy, you are going to really regret this in the morning and your wife is totally scary at times-'

Its like fighting Superman. Peter's calloused hands find their way under Neal's t-shirt. One is caressing his abdomen while the other is twisting a nipple. Neal's beginning to lose himself in the sensation when his stupid brain yells at him to use that abundant Caffrey intelligence. Neal, half-heartedly punches Peter in the stomach to knock him out a bit. Once Peter is sound asleep, Neal removes himself from the bed and just watches the rise and fall of Peter's stomach from afar.

The next morning, Peter is appaled. Neal tells him that nothing happened. Peter tells him that yes, he does love Neal, loves him more than anything else in the world. That's the first lie Peter's ever told Neal. Peter loves Elizabeth more than he loves Neal, of this, the conman is sure. Peter's never tried to get in his pants again. Neal is not sure whether he is upset or relieved about this.

Since then, things have changed. Neal noticed that he received respect from Peter, appreciation and a good word for a job well done. If Elizabeth had any clue about what happened that night, she didn't show it. It is perhaps why, Neal thinks that it hurts so much now. That he was foolish enough to have believed Peter's confessions of love to somehow equal confessions of trust. No, why would a conman ever receive trust from someone as extraordinary as Peter Burke? Love, yes, but never trust.

Because, damn it, he never stole any treasure. He never blew up any artwork. -  
Neal is angry with Peter. He is very, very angry. But hey, he is a criminal. He is a convicted felon. His feelings don't matter. He works with Agent Burke and helps him keep up an astounding conviction rate, as always. On more than one occasion, he puts his life in danger for this man. To make him proud. But the spark is gone. He does not believe in anything Peter says anymore. Because the one time he believed Peter's words, _'I love you'_ and he made assumptions based on that, he got hurt real bad. And damn it, he was not a dainty little princess set up for getting his heart broken one more time. And damned the rest of the world if he was jealous of Elizabeth.

He meets Daniel at a coffee shop. Daniel is a part-time waiter who is a struggling artist. He is six-two, lanky, long-limbed with dark hair and deep brown eyes. He has a baritone voice and a seriousness about him that hides an inner impish personality. Its love at first sight, or at the least lust.

That first night, when Dan is fucking him senseless into the mattress, Neal is sure this is exactly what he wants. Dan is amazing and funny and caring and oh, so good in bed. Plus, Dan is smart. Neal tells him the truth about himself. Who he is, what he does, how he came to be now. He expects Dan to run away screaming. Except that Dan stays exactly where he is, beside Neal on the bed, holding him in his arms and whispering a lullaby. The next morning, Dan is still there. Neal is shocked. A week passes.

Its a Sunday night when Peter knocks on Neal's door with a case of beer and several files. It takes several minutes for Neal to get the door. Peter steps in with a casual 'Hey, buddy! I got those classified documents from the NYPD-'

_There is a man in Neal's bed._

A half-naked, gorgeous man in Neal's bed.

Peter's blood is boiling.

'Umm, Peter, it is a Sunday night,' says Neal. It is a statement. Peter is not sure he heard him. Because there is a freaking half-naked man in Neal's bed. Peter hates him already.

The stranger is sitting up and the sheets kinda pull down, exposing that the man is naked from the waist-down too. _How fucking wonderful._

'Neal?' he asks, confused at the presence of a stranger in the room. Neal turns, exposing the long stretch of his neck. Peter suddenly realises that he is shirtless too. How is it possible that he has spent three minutes in Neal's company without noticing that the ex-con is shirtless? Jealousy does strange things to men.

'Go to sleep, Dan, it's just my colleague from the Bureau,' says Neal.

Now the best thing for Peter to do is probably to apologise, say the files can wait and continue to work the following day in the office, pretending this whole encounter never happened. But no, Peter-I-am-an-idiot-Burke goes about saying the worst thing he could possibly say in the situation.

'We are not really colleagues, I am his handler,' he says in the general direction of this Dan, whom he hates. His rage, jealousy and hatred are not enought to cloud his vision, not enough to protect him from seeing the flash of hurt in Neal's eyes at the word 'handler'.

_Damn it, _he mentally curses himself.

'Right, Agent Burke. Does it say in my release contract that I must work weekends too? Should I walk two steps behind you all the way to the office?' The _oh-lord-and-master_ that Neal was about to add was heard in the ensuing silence even if Neal never said the words.

Peter has heard Neal's voice is every way. Seductive, caring, jovial, bantering. But he has never heard this scathing, angry, raging tones.

'Of course not, we can work tomorrow,' Peter backpedals. 'I will just leave you with your boytoy.'

He slams the door in his anger and leaves, but not before seeing Neal's murderous expression.

The entire White Collar division hates Neal right now. Because, by all measures, Peter Burke is a decent boss. Or used to be, at the least. But the old Peter has been replaced by this angry, raging, snapping, demanding version of Godzilla. He is driving his team nuts with the yelling and snapping. He has already reduced two interns to tears, yelled at Lauren for speaking too loudly, sent Diana out for irritating him and pretty much yelled at everybody. The person at the receiving end of the prime of his tirade, of course, is Neal.

Suddenly, Neal is no longer a valued member of his team. He is not his partner. He is not, as Peter once told a smart-mouthed rookie agent fresh out of Quantico, 'smarter than all your Harvard jackass classmates put together'. Suddenly, every word out of Neal's mouth is wrong, stupid or insane.

_'Take your brainless schemes out of the conference room and get me some coffee,'_

'No, Caffrey, do that paperwork I gave you four hours ago,'

'Government forms are not for you to doodle on, Caffrey, or are you so eager to spend time with people in orange jumpsuits?'

It does not take a genius to figure out the reason behind Peter's transformation when Daniel walks into the FBI office one morning with Chinese take-out and a bouquet of flowers. Diana is the one to show him to Neal's desk. The entire office is watching and taking in the stranger as he waits for Neal to come down from Peter's glass walled office where the two are involved in a shouting match.

Jones and Diana use rock-paper-scissors to decide who goes up into the lion's den to tell Neal about the visitor. Diana wins, damn her, thinks Jones as he approaches the war-zone. Diana tries to make conversation with Dan, meanwhile.

_Yes, its almost lunchtime. No, he is not interrupting anything. Yeah, Neal enjoys working here. Oh, Neal's spoken a lot about her? That's great. He is an artist? How interesting!_

Neal comes down the stairs followed by an amused Jones and a scowling Peter.

'Dan!' Neal looks at him with joy, relief etched in his features, as though this Daniel is a lifeline thrown to him to save him from his partner. Ex-partner.

'Surprise!' says Dan awkwardly, Peter notes that his hatred of the man has increased substantially in the last few seconds. Oh, the guy is speaking again.

'I was hoping we could go to the park for lunch? I brought Chinese,'

Neal makes awkward introductions. He calls Daniel his boyfriend, something which does not help Peter's mood. Peter resolves to find a clause in Neal's release contract that he cannot pursue romantic entanglements with silly looking artists. If that does not work, he could put Dan-whats-his-name on surveillance and get him for something big. Drugs, if he is lucky. Something will surely come up, it always does.

Peter decides he can't stand Neal Caffrey hating him. He just can't. He also decides that he can't stand the idea of Neal in someone else's bed each night. He is ready and willing to fix this, no matter what it takes, but he needs to clear it with El first. He is terrified of the idea. When he does bring it up, he realises how much he has underestimated his own wife. She reads him like a book.

'Do you think that I have not noticed how Neal and I could pass for each other's identical twins?' she asks. 'Do you think I believe that if you had chased Neal before meeting me, we would still have gotten married?'

She never says the words outright, but she does tell him to do whatever it takes to fix it with Neal. There really is no point in pretending anymore, Peter decides. Who is he hiding from? El, who wants Neal in her husband's life does not count as an excuse for Peter's mistakes. Neal is mad at him.

So, when he hears through the office grapevine while pretending to not listen that Neal and Dan have broken up, he sees his cue to attempt to woo Neal back. Elizabeth ropes in Mozzie and June to help out too. Peter is confused, worried about El's reaction to this whole thing, but she just says that she loves Neal too and wants Peter to be happy.

He tries to undo whatever damage he caused in his foolish rage the past few months. He praises Neal loudly in the office for his work, he compliments him and tries to rebuild their old rapport. Neal is only increasingly confused as the days progress. Normalcy returns to a certain extent. They reach their high conviction rate, Burke and Caffrey get back as the hottest team in town. Peter shows that he trusts Neal on multiple occasions but Neal is still wary.

Moz tips Peter off about an art exhibition that Neal is dying to see but can't afford tickets to. The following day, after hours of practice, Peter gathers his nerve and asks Neal out.

'I have two tickets to the NY gallery art exhibition. Do you wanna go with me?'

Neal is shocked, but hides it well.

'Since when do you like art?'

'Since I met you and realised how much you like art,'

'Geez, Peter, if I didn't know better, I would have thought you are almost flirting with me,' Neal rolls his eyes.

'Maybe I am,' says Peter. The world stops still for a minute in that parking lot, as Neal turns around to meet Peter's gaze.

'Peter, what is this about?'

Peter draws a deep breath. Here it is, the moment of truth.

'I am asking you out, Neal,' he huffs out. Neal laughs nervously.

'Need I remind you that you are married, Peter?' Neal raises his eyebrow, 'to a friend who is very dear to me, if I may add.'

'She put me up to this. Asking you out was her idea. She says it is the easiest way to win you over,'

Neal is pretty sure the world is spinning by now.

'Peter-'

'No, listen to me, Neal!' He places his hands on Neal's shoulders and locks his gaze with the younger man's bewildered eyes. 'I am in love with you. I love you and I am crazy about you. I want to be your boyfriend, your lover, your date, your husband - whatever you wish, but I want you more than anything in this world and I wish you to be mine. I know it sounds crazy but it is what it is! I can't stand having you mad at me and I am sorry I didn't trust you. But I will never make that mistake again. Can't you please please give this a chance? I am willing to grovel, right here in this parking lot-'

Neal leans in to cover Peter's lips with his, effectively shutting him up. Initially shocked, Peter leans in too, opening his mouth and granting Neal's tongue entry. Neal's mouth is warm and sweet and tastes of coffee and mint and Neal and Peter is drowning, drowning, drowning in that soft heaven. It is probably few minutes or several hours or many months before they break apart, Peter isn't sure.

What he is sure of is Neal is looking at him with love and lust? - and god, he needs him right about now and can he please kiss those suckable lips again? Neal grasps his hand and leads them to the car. Peter somehow manages to drive to June's. In hindshight, he will never understand how he managed the ride because Neal is next to him, clasping his left hand and brushing his knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

At the threshold to Neal's rooms, Peter scoops Neal into his arms and carries him in. Neal smiles that wonderful smile which makes Peter see rainbows. Then, all of a sudden, Neal is stripping and is unbuttoning Peter's shirt too. Their hands roam over each other's bodies and when they fall as a naked heap into bed, Peter's lost the ability to form coherent thought. He had wanted this, wanted Neal for far too long to be able to believe in what was happening, what was about to happen.

Neal's whimpering by now, pulling Peter on top of him and reaching between their bodies to run his hand on Peter's hard cock. Peter's arching, keening into the touch, planting his lips on Neal's neck, knowing he is leaving hickeys, a mark if you will, that this brilliant, charming man, that this Neal Caffrey was his and his alone. Let the Dans of the world take note.

When Neal spreads his legs and urges Peter on, handing him a bottle, Peter takes it with firm hands. He watches his finger slip into Neal, the sight turning him on even more, a feat he had not believed possible. Neal is making the sweetest sounds and saying 'Peter' and 'please' and 'more' when Peter realises what a thrill it is to reduce Neal to this. And somehow, he believes, Neal doesn't mind.

When he is sure that he has prepped Neal enough, he lines himself against Neal's tight hole and enters slowly.

'I am not actually made of glass, you know,' says Neal, and he takes it as cue for him to speed up. Oh...my...good...God. There is nothing in the world like Neal's ass, he decides. There is no feeling in the world like Neal clenching around him.

'Love you so much, baby... you are perfect, Neal,' When he erupts, it is with Neal's name on his lips. Neal follows closely and Peter watches Neal's face as he keels over the edge, memorising every inch of his lover's body.

Peter wraps his arms around him as they both wait for their breathing to even out in the afterglow. Neal rests comfortably against Peter's strong chest and whispers,

'So, about that date?'

'I will take you tomorrow,' Neal can hear the smile in Peter's voice.

'What convinced you to finally make a move?' asks Neal, teasing.

'Seeing you with Dan just pushed my buttons,' grunts out Peter.

'You put him on surveillance, didn't you?' asks Neal chuckling.

'I plead the Patriot Act,' huffs Peter, 'besides, he was totally in love with you and I got scared.'

'No, he was not! We both had it clear from the outset that it was going to be just a fling,'

'Believe me, sweetheart,' Neal's heart thrills at the endearment, 'he was in love with you.'

'I can't imagine that,' replies Neal, snuggling closer.

'And you know what I can't imagine? That any man wouldn't be.'  
-


End file.
